Pride Cometh Before A Tripp
by isabella2004
Summary: Frank's thoughts after the revelations in 'Bait.'


A/N: This is set at the end of 'Bait' from season 2, therefore all dialogue from that episode belongs to the writers and not to myself!

"Me and Melissa…we've got issues. Personal issues." Eric shifted uncomfortably, "But for her to do this. Hiring somebody to trick me…"

"That's rough," Eric said.

"Eight and a half years," Frank said, sitting back in his chair and regarding Eric, "that's how long we've been married." He glanced to his left and saw Horatio standing a few feet away, looking over, seemingly confused at the exchange. Standing up, Frank grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, "Pretty good for a cop." Leaving Eric sitting, he walked towards Horatio, flashing him a brief smile, "Hello H."

"Frank."

Frank kept walking, not wanting to get into a conversation with the crime lab boss, knowing he would attempt to wheedle the truth from him. He continued walking until he reached the main door of the police station and then stopped. Taking a deep breath, he let out a long sigh and squinted as he emerged into the sunlight of the late afternoon. His mind was racing and he wasn't quite sure what to do. He had two hours left on his shift, but he knew he was no good to man or beast in the mood he was in.

Melissa. When he thought about what she'd done, his emotions continually switched between anger and anguish. Anger that she had gone to the agency in the hope of catching him out, anguish that their marriage had got so bad that she had felt the need to do it. Things had been going wrong for a good few months if he was honest. Ever since Melissa's mother came to stay with them.

Veronica Keller was a widow, Melissa's father having died when she was seventeen. Mother and daughter were close, so it had seemed the natural solution, in Melissa's eyes, to have her mother to stay while she recuperated from a hip replacement operation. Frank had had his reservations, but Melissa had batted her eyelashes and brought him round with promises of beer and sex. He should have known better. It was hard enough catching a few fumbling moments with only three kids in the house, let alone his mother-in-law.

The minute Veronica moved in, he knew it had been a big mistake. He could handle his mother-in-law for a few hours every so often, but actually having her living in his home was a whole different matter. It was like having a helpless fourth child. He found himself resenting helping her with her disability and it hadn't taken long for the rows to start between himself and Melissa.

"She's my mother!" Melissa had exclaimed when he had dared to suggest she should go back to her own home, "She's just come through a really serious operation, Frank. I can't just dump her back on her own!"

"She's been on her own for a long time," he had argued back, "She'll be fine."

"I can't believe you're saying this." Melissa had shaken her head and stormed out of the room leaving him standing redundantly in the middle of a room strewn with his mother-in-law possessions.

After that, their conversations had been strained and Melissa had slept as far away from him in the bed as possible. In turn, instead of apologising and trying to clear the air, he kept silent, and spent most evenings at the Hotel Lapadis bar, waiting for her to make the first move.

"Well she had certainly done that," he thought as he wandered slowly down the street, past couples, kids, teenagers and old people going about their lives. Going to the agency had been a move all right. Melissa knew him so well, knew that he would be spending yet another night in the bar at the Lapadis.

When the girl had approached him and asked if he was staying at the hotel, he had looked at her and thought, "Wow." Even if she had been a hooker, as he initially thought, she was clearly a high-class one. She looked flawless and he couldn't believe she was actually talking to him. He had looked at the hotel key card that she held out to him and thought about what it would be like to go to bed with her. To sleep with someone who didn't expect anything from you. Where there were no children or mother-in-laws to make thing even more complicated.

But as he looked at the card, he had caught sight of his wedding ring and had realised just how much he did love Melissa. To cheat on her would have been wrong. He took his vows seriously.

"I'm married," he heard himself say.

The girl had leaned in closer, "Honey, I don't mind. Room 1217." Then she had been gone and he had been left alone to think.

Part of him wanted to follow her, but his head told him no. So he didn't. He finished his drink and left. When he got home, Veronica was in bed and Melissa was watching TV.

"Good evening?" she had greeted him in a tone which he now realised had been slightly suspicious, no doubt hoping to catch him out and force him to admit that he had screwed a woman she had hired.

"Fine," he had replied curtly and then gone straight to bed. But he had lain awake tortured with images of her and what could have transpired between them.

Now the girl was dead and he had been first on the list of suspects. In his mind's eye he could see Eric, waving the agency's client list at him, holding out one of those damn swab things to get his DNA. He went over and over it again in his mind, so relieved that he hadn't slept with her and made things a million times more complicated, but with a slight tinge of regret that he had been so faithful to a marriage that now seemed so dead.

For so long, Melissa had been everything to him, the reason he lived was for her and their kids. He wanted nothing more to be with her, to be with them. He had never hurt her, never cheated on her. He had believed their marriage was perfect. Why hadn't she just talked to him? How could it possibly have come to this?

As night fell, he found himself at his favourite haunt, the Lapadis. The neon lights and smoky atmosphere was just what he needed to forget about the wreck that was his marriage, his life.

After a while, he sensed someone joining him at the bar and without glancing around, knew it was Horatio. He downed the rest of his drink and held the empty glass to the bartender, "Another one." He didn't care about getting drunk, didn't care about the inevitable hangover he would wake up with the following morning, making him grumpier than ever and with an urge to punch every jumped up little punk he would meet. He didn't want to go home, didn't want to face Melissa. He wasn't sure he would be responsible for his actions.

Without a word exchanged between them, Horatio calmly accepted the role of sober protector. "I'll…uh…I'll have coffee."


End file.
